


Hands Off Approach

by Mintysprouts



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Edging, Force Sex (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Public Hand Jobs, Trans Armitage Hux, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintysprouts/pseuds/Mintysprouts
Summary: Hux has been experiencing some weird ghost touches, and much to his dismay he finds he rather enjoys them, even after finding out the source.This started as aTwitter threadand I was suggested to expand it into a proper fic!This was partially inspired by Sigo's fic"Invasion", please go read it!
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Hands Off Approach

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Invasion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24684403) by [sigo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sigo/pseuds/sigo). 



> CWs!  
> Mildly Dubious Consent - Hux doesn't explicitly ask for the sexual attention, but enjoys it despite complaints, and later gives very enthusiastic consent.  
> Gendered genitalia terms - Hux is trans, the word "cock" is used, but words for his vaginal area are gender neutral.  
> Public hand job - Hux is touched secretly during a meeting with other officers.

Hux had a secret, an utterly filthy one that sent pangs of disgust into his gut. For three weeks now, he'd been getting off thinking of Kylo Ren. Awful, unpredictable, destructive, tantrum-throwing Kylo Ren.

They were rivals; they hated each other, constantly at each other’s throats trying to find some shred of evidence that one was lesser than the other. Hux barely trusted Ren not to stab him through with that broken lightsaber; never in a million years would he trust him around his body. Especially since his wasn’t that of a 'typical' man’s. One wouldn’t know just from looking at him in his immaculate uniform and greatcoat, and he never advertised his status as a trans man. There was no need; it wasn’t anyone’s business to know what was beneath the uniform, and he didn’t make a habit of sleeping around with any officer that had some shred of desire for him. He especially didn't advertise it to the man he hated the second most in the galaxy; Brendol had taken that top spot, though thankfully that thorn in his side was now just bad memories and repressed trauma. 

These truths only made it more mortifying and frustrating that every night now for over a fortnight he touched himself to the thought of large, gloved fingers penetrating him, working him open for what he could only imagine was a dick as ridiculously huge as the rest of that blasted man-child. Normally such a detail was one he could overlook entirely, but after he saw the way Kylo's trousers strained, just barely visible from under his thick tunic, when he sat down on the table instead of his chair during a meeting like a damned barbarian, there was no ignoring the heavy line that suggested a substantial girth beneath. Hux had forced his eyes away just as Ren caught him looking, and managed to mask his staring by complaining loudly that Ren was mucking up his table. He ignored the way that blank helmet continued to stare at him for the rest of the meeting, as well as the creeping feeling of a cold, anxious sweat threatening to drip down his neck. He still couldn’t be sure that his hard swallow wasn’t totally audible.

He hated this strange obsession, he hated how hot it made him to think of what could possibly be lurking beneath all of those layers of black, and especially under that helmet. He hated how gratifying his orgasms had become ever since he'd started this filthy ritual. He especially hated that it just  _ had  _ to be centered around Kylo kriffing Ren. 

It started the same way every night as it had the first time: while taking his nightly shower, relishing the hot water that he’d managed to pull strings to obtain thanks to his rank, he swore he felt hands exploring his body, stroking up and down his lithe frame, teasing goosebumps up from his skin. They started fairly tame, tracing over his waist and ribs up to his shoulders, then down along his spine to his pelvis, but after several minutes of soft, chaste petting, the hands moved to more erogenous zones at the small of his back, the dip just under his hipbone, across his peaked nipples and up along the side of his throat. Hux was left panting, leaning against the shower wall and soaking wet from more than just the water and his skin feeling like it was alight with flame. That first time, Hux had touched himself in the shower, and he came so fast and so hard he thought it was a fever dream when he woke up the next morning, barely remembering leaving the refresher and falling into bed, dazed from his orgasm. 

After that time, he usually managed to make it to his bed, hair damp and sticking to his forehead, just in time for those ghostly hands to press against his belly, then just a bit lower to the crest of the small mound above his cock, though never low enough. They were always teasing but never fulfilling, never getting him anywhere but hopelessly riled up and ready to jump the first dick offered to him; that only served to frustrate him further. He always had to spread his legs and rub at his lightly protruding and twitching cock himself, shivering when he dipped his fingers inside his slit to use some of the growing slick to lubricate his fingers. Those blasted hands continued their teasing, never actually going where he wanted or bringing him as close to the edge as he wanted; sometimes it felt as if they were shy, maybe afraid. He'd complained about said shyness to the air exactly once: he fussed that the least they could do was finger inside him, stroke his cock, do  _ something _ that was actually helpful. They completely disappeared for the rest of the night. It was the last time he made such demands. 

They did return the very next night, but seemed somehow even more shy and careful. The heated presses into his thighs, the small of his back, the soft flesh at his lower belly, were all traded for even more chaste strokes. Infuriating. 

What was worse was the first time the thought of Kylo Ren came to him during these sessions. He cut way too good of a figure in the bare bones of his usually bulky attire, the ratty cowl and thick tunic gone and leaving him in a tight undershirt and his trousers. It was annoying that he still managed to look wide and intimidating. Hux paired the ghostly hands with those oversized paws of Ren's, hidden beneath gloves but still just as warm and firm. The idea was absurd, and he tried fighting it, but for some reason, Hux could never successfully think of someone else to pair with the intrusive touches. He'd tried many more times after that. Hells, he'd even once attempted imagining Lieutenant Mitaka behind those shy, awkward brushes against his shoulders or his hip. Every time he tried to picture anyone but Ren though, it was as if the image was ripped clean out of his head and forcibly replaced with that damned helmeted son of a bantha. 

So he'd given up fighting, finally just going along with the embarrassingly arousing things his mind wandered to: Ren touching him in a dark alcove, gripping his hips but doing his best not to grind against Hux's ass until he was told to; kneeling between Hux's legs in the middle of a meeting to rub that large nose against his groin through his jodhpurs, unable to do anything more until he gave Ren permission; Hux straddled across Ren's lap but purposely avoiding his cock while enjoying the Knight's eager, wanting touches. These kinds of scenes become commonplace, and Hux didn't fail to notice a recurring theme: Ren's total and utter submission. It was thrilling to imagine the great and powerful Force user, Snoke's personally picked little pet, the Knight of Ren that commanded his own gaggle of soldiers, bending the knee to him, subservient and willing to do anything to please him. It'd intensified his climaxes every time he'd dwelled on that thought. 

He hated it that this seemed to be the only thing that could get him off anymore, but even if it was always just his hands -- perhaps that toy he'd squirreled away from one of his trips off-ship -- and those terrible, wonderful hands that all worked together to make him come, at least he was getting off.

It took him much longer than it should have to start suspecting that there was something amiss about those ghost touches, something he'd later regret. He'd never been much of a believer in all that Force nonsense, even after seeing Ren use that invisible, almost magical strength with his own eyes, so it never dawned on him that this sort of thing was even possible using those 'powers'. That was, at least, until he felt them again at the most inopportune time: in the middle of a meeting. 

It was incredibly difficult to keep a straight face when he felt the first familiar brushes while listening to a resources report. They'd gone immediately for his thighs instead of their usual workup, and massaged in deep, slow circles, coaxing his legs to spread wide open. It was impossible not to get hopelessly aroused. The first thought he tried explaining it away with was perhaps he was just particularly needy that day, that he was imagining it all in anticipation, but he felt eyes on him from down the table. Ren. His helmet was locked into place staring Hux down, and while he could normally ignore it and continue with the task at hand, this time he caught something that finally had him adding things up. His eyes widened marginally as he realized Ren was moving his fingers; they were very small motions, but ones that perfectly mimicked the touches he felt under his uniform. His face reddened, but he couldn't complain or make a fuss, not in the presence of so many others. If he was honest with himself, he could hardly think of making Ren stop, period. It felt like he'd been trained over these few weeks, that as soon as he felt the first crawl of that buzzy, ghostly feeling against his skin he'd immediately become wet and wanting. 

While he wanted to be furious, wanted to throw Ren out of an airlock, those touches that normally were very careful about not pressing inside him in any way were suddenly spreading his slit, and just as Hux tried to pin Ren with a quietly pleading look to not do what he was about to, the intrusive fingers slammed hard into his soaked front hole, making him drop his head between his arms that treated on the table to hide his face, just barely holding in the surprised -- and utterly aroused -- yelp. Of course his odd movement brought on questions by the other attendees; he brushed them off with some excuse he hardly thought through about some mild discomfort, then once more waved off the concerned suggestions to go to medbay and urged them to continue. All the while he suffered under Ren's intense stare and even more intense finger fucking that was continually threatening to pull a moan from him. Kriff, it was too good. It was exactly how he liked, pushing deep and in all the right spots. It slowly dawned on him through the growing haze that since Ren had been the culprit this whole time, he had likely watched and felt while Hux pleasured himself. Was that why he'd never gone further than those maddening teasing touches? Was he learning Hux's preferences? The General suddenly wondered how much of those images he'd conjured in the middle of chasing his climax were his own and which were planted in there in hopes of, what, softening him to the idea of fucking Ren? Shit, it was working. 

The meeting felt like it lasted forever, and he was sure he was bright red, especially judging by the odd or otherwise concerned expressions of the other officers. Ren spent the entire time bringing Hux just to the edge of losing control, then ebbing away, letting him recover enough to regain some modicum of self control, only to thrust right back in and ramp him up all over again. The edging was torture, and he admittedly didn't hear a word of what was said during most of the meeting, barely giving little nods here and there and waving off questions after his wellbeing. Just as the inquiries threatened to become incriminating, Hux stood suddenly, startling everyone in attendance. He made an excuse about his earlier discomfort becoming enough of a problem that yes, he would go to medbay, then stormed out of the room as quickly as his long legs would take him. Ren at least had the forethought to wait a few minutes before following after him. 

The hands all over and inside Hux had stopped entirely after he interrupted the meeting to leave in a whirlwind, and he leaned against a wall in the corridor back to his chambers, far from the meeting room, breathing heavily and letting his cheek press into the cool metal to hopefully curb the awful heat coiled low in his gut. The thought was obliterated when he felt actual,  _ real _ hands gripping his waist and a hard helmet leaned into the back of his shoulder. There was a soft growling coming from behind the vocoder, and it vibrated through Hux's already sensitive body, making him thrust his hips back in need. Neither man needed words; Ren's solid erection pressed against Hux's ass said more than enough for his feelings on the matter. Hux all but dragged the Knight into his room, determined to wring every denied orgasm out of the brute. The feel of solid hands all over his skin was the thing he was most eager for, and admittedly what he wanted the most. 


End file.
